


A Supernatural Night Before Christmas…

by princess_schez



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess_schez/pseuds/princess_schez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on the poem, The Night Before Christmas... Supernatural style! Hope you all like! :-D</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Supernatural Night Before Christmas…

  
 

It was the night before Christmas, and inside the dank motel,  
Not a monster was stirring, not even a demon from hell.  
The shot-guns were sitting by the stiff beds with care,  
In the hope that no creature would show their face there.

The Winchesters were snoring loudly, all sprawled out in their beds,  
As visions of beer and half-naked women danced in their heads.  
With Dean in his T-shirt, and Sam in his jeans,  
Made for such a lovely scene,  
And having just finished off a six-pack,  
They decided to hit the sack.  
When out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter,  
They sprang from their beds, guns in hand, to see what was the matter.

Away to the window they flew without shame,  
Tore open the shutters and prepared to take aim.  
The moonlight on the freshly placed salt line glowed,  
And gave the luster of midday to the painted Devil’s Trap below—

When what to our wondering eyes should appear  
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.  
With a man inside so lively and quick,  
We prayed for a moment that it wasn’t Lucifer's Nick.  
More rapid than hellhounds his coursers they came,  
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name—

"Now, Bud! Now, Miller! Now, Coors! Now, Wild Turkey!  
On, Jose! On, Jim! On, Jack and Barcardi!  
To the top of the roof, to the top of the motel!  
Now, dash away! Dash away! Dash away! All!"

Our agitation quickly began to soar,  
And Dean began swearing some more.  
My trigger finger began to itch,  
As Dean yelled, “Son of a bitch!”  
So up to the motel-top the coursers they flew  
With the sleigh straight above, and those damn reindeer, too.  
And then in a twinkling we heard on the roof  
The prancing and pawing of each tiny hoof.

As we were turning around,  
Down the intruder came with a bound.  
Shotgun in hand, and feeling really pissed,  
I raised my gun and told him my aim never missed.

With a machete in hand and a menacing look,  
Soon gave us to know we had a demon afoot.  
His black eyes—how they twinkled! His smirk was scary.  
But soon his meat suit lit up as he screamed in fury.  
His droll little mouth went in a straight line,  
And Dean said he shouldn’t have screwed with us this time.

With the shivving courtesy of my bro,  
The demon fell with a gaping, bloody hole.  
Landing face down on his cheeks,  
The blood, it encircled his head like a wreath.  
Together we heaved the demon off the ground,  
And went straight to the car trunk, without making a sound.

Out of breath, we climbed into the Impala,  
Dean cranked the dials, radio now blasting Metallica,  
And I heard him exclaim as we drove out of sight,  
"So much for a friggin' good night!"


End file.
